


Traitor to the cause

by Dr_Fell



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5337473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Fell/pseuds/Dr_Fell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles finally goes too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traitor to the cause

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nineveh_uk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nineveh_uk/gifts).



“To denounce one husband as a traitor may be an accident. To denounce two looks like carelessness.” Countess Vorkosigan bit the phrase like a child with a broken tooth, savouring the pain. 

Had he really thought she wouldn't do it? 

* * *

They had made an alteration to the law so that a traitor was no longer publicly starved to death. This was not because Miles had requested it. She was sure of that. Or would he? Would he have had that much compassion towards her? 

* * * 

She had not thought of herself as ruthless before. All the time in Komarr, and afterwards, in Vorbarr Sultana. She had defied traitors and terrorists, yes, but she had never thought of herself as ruthless.

It was like a dropping away of her stomach, like a long free fall, to know that she would denounce her beloved husband as a traitor.

Had Miles thought of her as ruthless? Somone had once said he was outstandingly good at selecting military personnel. And she had behaved in a military manner. She had obeyed _that_ chain of command. 

* * *

Oh, he was sure in his own mind that his decision had been the right one. He knew, with every fibre of his condensed and resurrected body that his decision was best for Barrayar. And his wife, his wife, had been the one to betray him. 

She had told him, looking him in the eye, that he did not have the right to make the decision. And when he pointed out that he had given both Gregor and the Council of Counts the opportunity to make the right decision, and that they had flatly rejected it, she had looked at him with a grief he had seen before. 

* * *

It was worse, worse even than when Simon Illyan had requested the silver eyes from his jacket. When Simon Illyan had told him he had betrayed Barrayar by his lies, by his refusal to admit defeat. Not lies, the automatic slider in his brain told him. Not lies, merely omissions, merely a clever phrasing of the truth such that the report's reader would draw the wrong conclusions. 

Ekaterin's eyes, and then Gregor's. 

* * *

"What did you think I would say?" Gregor had said, weary and grieved and angry at once.

The words came out of Miles' mouth before he thought. "Lets see what happens."

"No," Gregor had said. 

And then, "I blame myself", he said. "I gave you too much latitude in the past. I let you think you were above the law."

"I am above the law," Miles said. "Lord Auditor. I set the laws."

"No," Gregor had said. "That was the past, Miles. Yes, in the past, in civil war, in times of unrest, during occupation, you might have set the laws. But Barrayar must change." 

There was a long pause, such that Miles could not remember what had happened in it. He would have thought he had had a seizure, but there was no memory of a recovery.

"I have not judged rightly," Gregor was saying bleakly. "I have been too fond of the old ways, of chivalry and Vor honour. I have ruled this empire as though I were a child, still too fond of the old tales of Counts and Lords and horses and spaceships." 

"How much of this is Laisa's doing?" Miles spat. 

"My grandfather killed his son to save this Empire," Gregor said. "Do you think I wouldn't do the same?" 

* * *

It was Ivan who had surprised her. 

Ivan, now with his hair touched with silver, and the marks of 20 years of diplomacy in his face. Not wrinkles, almost the opposite. Smoothnesses, from 20 years of failing to raise his eyebrows.

“The worst thing is,” she said, “... Almost the worst thing, is that I think he was probably right.”

“To supply secret intelligence to the Cetagandans?” Ivan said. 

“Yes.” There was a coldness that chilled her in the word, though she had said it herself. “I think that his judgement was probably correct. The Cetagandans probably will use the information as he anticipated, and relations with them might have improved. It was simply that...” 

Ivan sat, silent, opposite her. 

“I thought you would have supported him,” she said suddenly. “I thought you would have blamed me and blamed Gregor and been a figurehead for the Conservatives. I thought you would have done everything you could to bring us down.”

“I married a Jacksonian,” Ivan said. “I know what it means to put individuals' decisions above the rule of law. To make law nothing, and to play everything on the whim of people with money. I saw Tej's House implode, and I watched what it did to her.” He paused, and then added “They're all dead apart from her, you know. Every last one of that family.”

“Even...?”

“They got him too, on Escobar. Just for completion's sake.” 

Lord Ivan Vorpatril, the fool of his family, had held diplomatic office for 20 years, across half the galaxy. Ambassador to Beta Colony, his last but one posting. Ambassador to Old Earth, the current. 

“I love Barrayar,” he said, quietly, “But I have seen planets that are better than ours. Better run. More equal. We pride ourself on our honour, here. Our name's word, that's what we swear on. When on Beta or Earth they might swear on their gods, we set ourselves up as gods to ourselves.”

There was that cold and pointless trickle of tears down her cheeks again. 

“We were no better than the Jacksonians, before Gregor's reforms. We just used words like 'honour' and 'lord' and 'lady' and 'vor' to make ourselves sound gallant. Tej finds it hard to understand but...” he put his hand out to her, “I hope I would have done the same myself.”


End file.
